


Sway

by RocketOwl



Series: Broken Wings [3]
Category: Strange Magic (2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:05:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3287993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocketOwl/pseuds/RocketOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What matters to fairies doesn't so much to goblins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sway

**Author's Note:**

> cyprith pointed out that some butterflies have mating dances/flights they do for each other  
> (no actual tomfoolery happens here but i am writing something special)

 The height of spring brought noise and life to the forests. All around them creatures chased one another, rustled leaves. Flowers bloomed, their colors spread over every patch of earth. Fairies and elves and goblins alike were sent buzzing; even they were not immune from the pull of the seasons, the magic of growth.

 

Marianne could do little to join in now – not that she had since she'd sent Roland running with his tail between his legs. It was difficult to be in the palace now, the smell of pheromones thick in the air and the flashing of bright wings making it difficult to concentrate. So, these days, she often simply _wasn't_.

 

Traveling was harder than it used to be but she was growing accustomed to it, learning shortcuts that usually only the elves employed when they needed to keep up with fairies. Now that she was as grounded as the rest of them Sunny and Pare had shown her a few, though given her size she could only use ones that Pare could too.

 

This evening she was busy making her way towards the border between the kingdoms – anything to get away from the sight of the other fairies. Even her sister had been flitting around above Sunny, flashing her wings and laughing brightly.

 

Ugh. It made her ache for the dark King to see everyone so happy together, and on an instinctive level she felt a strong urge to join in herself, as she once had with Roland a year and more ago. But even if Bog _were_ around it wasn't like she could do the same thing. Not anymore.

 

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of buzzing wings and she looked up in time to see the Bog King himself hovering near the archway of the border. She managed a smile, which he returned, as he came closer and offered his hand.

 

“Didn't expect ta see you here.” His fingers closed around hers when she placed her hand in his palm. “Woulda thought I'd find ye in yer palace till nightfall.”

 

“Needed to get some fresh air.”

 

“Mm.” The King bent closer, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. He paused for a moment, then let out a huff of laughter. “I think I can smell why.”

 

Marianne's ears flushed red and she rolled her eyes. “Ha, ha.” Still, a niggling sense of anxiety began to coil in her chest. She wasn't unaffected by the Spring Highs, and as she breathed she could tell he was as much under their thrall as she was. But she couldn't fly for him, so she tried hard to squash what his scent was doing to her; even so, she felt her shoulder blades twitch a little. “So were you going to march through the castle looking for me? Or was there another reason you're here at the border?”

 

“Truth be told, I _was_... thinking of you.” Bog finally straightened, meeting her eyes, still holding her hand. “It's, ah... been hard not to, lately. What with all the, uh,” He waved at the forest around them. “Y'know.”

 

Marianne shot him a crooked smile. “Yeah. I know.”

 

They stood in silence for a minute and she could feel his fingers rubbing hers gently. Was aware of the ways his wings flicked against his back as he fell deep into thought. “Would you perhaps like to go somewhere more, ah, secluded?” When he eventually spoke his voice was hopeful. At her nod he turned and gestured to the archway, and they walked back into the shadows of his realm side by side.

* * *

“I can't dance with you, you know.” She murmured to him as they strolled through the darkened underbrush. “Not anymore. And- and dancing on the ground isn't...” It wasn't the same. Dancing on the ground implied friendship, certainly, and was usually what happened during public balls and celebrations, but what they had was more than that, by far.

 

Such a thing would have mattered a great deal to a fairy; much of their lives and cultures were based around their wings, after all, from courtship to fighting to celebration and everything inbetween. And without her wings she was forced to find ways of her own. But... that was something she simply couldn't do anymore. No courtship flights; it was made all the worse because now she had someone she actually _wanted_ to court.

 

Had he actually been a fairy, it might have mattered to him, too.

 

Bog stopped walking and she looked up at him anxiously. Wordlessly he caught up her other hand, ensuring he had her full attention.

 

“Marianne.” His voice was low, and his face absolutely serious. “Stand on my toes.”

 

“What?”

 

His mouth twitched but he visibly forced his amusement down. Was that amusement at her expense or was he playing a joke on her? Was this a goblin thing? The fairy suddenly realized she knew precious little about goblin customs; maybe this _was_ something for them.

 

“Do ye trust me?”

 

“Ye-es....” Marianne cocked her head and eyed him, eyes narrowing, and he smiled placidly under her scrutiny.

 

“Stand on my toes.” He repeated. When she continued to balk he winked at her and added, “Yer wee little feet wont hurt mine, don't you worry.”

 

The fairy sighed, then did as he asked. He released one of her hands so he could place his own at the small of her back, holding her steady, and he took off. The fairy wobbled and clung to him, shooting a glare when he chuckled.

 

“I do remember, once, offering my wings to you.” The Bog King allowed her a few moments to relax, spinning idly. “And I think what you had in mind is a dance for two, aye?”

 

Marianne huffed, but her smile returned and she pushed away from his chest, carefully balanced on his feet and holding his arms tightly. “Something like that.”

 

It wasn't _exactly_ a courtship dance; those involved flitting to and fro, chasing ones partner until they gave chase in turn, spiraling with them, circling. Then again, he wasn't a fairy, and _she_ would be doing no more flitting around in this lifetime.

 

No, it wasn't a fairy courtship dance. But as he spun her in lazy circles, kept her in the air as though she weighed nothing at all, she felt that it suited them more than any fairy custom would have.

 

Besides. He didn't seem like he knew _how_ to flit.


End file.
